Hate and Other Four Letter Words
by Spirit Summoner
Summary: Doma yaoi A series of oneshots with the Doom bikers and various pairings. Suggestions welcome 1 Amelda x Varon 2 Amelda x Varon hinted Mai x Joey onesided Joey x Varon 3 Seto x Amelda
1. Amelda x Varon

Hate and Other Four Letter Words

* * *

Amelda let out a tired sigh as he stripped off his leather trench. 

Dartz had sent him on yet another soul collecting expedition, much to his annoyance. He had originally planned to stake out Seto Kaiba and reek his vengeance – but no, the _'Great Beast must be awakened.'_ But to do that, Dartz needed souls – and since he was the only one in the lair, Amelda was the one who had to do the days dirty work.

Amelda threw the jacket into the open laundry basket and proceeded to remove his tank top. Yeah, it was old and it was worn but he'd had it for years and it was one of the only things that remained of his past. He loved that thing like a friend – in fact, it was probably the only friend he had.

Or at least believed he had.

Amelda frowned as he noticed the array of towels and discarded underwear littering the floor.

Obviously, Varon had been using his bathroom again.

All he had wanted today was a little revenge, but since he couldn't have that, he was willing make do with a shower. But, like usual, the other members of Doma were lining up to screw over his day.

Sighing with dissatisfaction, he began to throw the rumpled garments one by one into the basket.

"I wonder where Varon is," he said softly, the animosity towards his partner fading slightly as he tossed in two mismatched socks.

_Probably out chasing Mai._

"I don't know what he sees in her – she's loud, bossy and dresses like a whore."

_Not to mention she treats him like shit._

And it was true.

After saving her from losing a duel against Joey Wheeler, Mai had stormed off without so much as a thank you. Instead, she accused Varon of stealing her victory before disappearing to lick her wounds.

Varon had said he didn't really care so long as the Valentine woman was safe, but Amelda had been – and still was – pissed to hell and back with her attitude. Varon had been left with a broken arm, and although he denied it, Amelda was in no doubt that he was also suffering a broken heart.

Amelda scowled.

He really did hate that woman with a passion.

And it wasn't just because she had once borrowed his favourite tank top either.

* * *

Amelda adjusted the shower and let the water run so that it would warm up. He never understood why Raphael took so many cold showers – and so often, too, but he didn't have the patience or the inclination to wait for a tub to fill and then lounge in it like Dartz. Then again, Dartz bathed in something that resembled an Olympic swimming pool in size and it wasn't as if _he_ had anything better to do. 

While he waited for the temperature to rise, he went in search of a clean towel. Finding that Varon had used all his, he was forced to 'borrow' one of Dartz's. Not that he was complaining. After all, the Atlantean had a preference for giant, white, fluffy towels.

None of them ever asked.

_Well, not anymore anyway._

After removing both his trousers and his underpants in one fluid motion, Amelda stepped into the shower and closed his eyes, tilting his head upwards so that the liquid washed over his face. He remained still for a moment, letting the hot jets stream over his body. Feeling his burning muscles relax, Amelda reached for his shampoo.

At that moment, a bleary-eyed Varon stumbled into the bathroom, knocking over the mountain of clothes that had found their way into the wicker basket by the door.

Amelda's first instinct was to rant at his chocolate haired colleague for using up all his shampoo – and conditioner, but then indignation surfaced.

"Varon! What the hell are you doing in here?" he demanded, jumping out of the shower. "I getting really tired of this! First, you leave all your dirty clothes and use my towels – then you use my shampoo – and conditioner – and now you walk in when I'm trying to take a shower! Are you some kind of pervert of what?"

Varon, finding it extremely difficult to focus on Amelda's arms without feeling queasy since they were flying every which way, suddenly giggled.

_Fuck! Varon was pissed._

"If I'm a pervert…" he said laughing. "It's because you're a naturist!"

Confusion winning over his annoyance, Amelda followed Varon's gloved point and suddenly remembered that he was in the middle of a warm shower and very naked.

Grabbing the first item of clothing he could see, Amelda hurtled himself into a pair of underpants.

By now, Varon was rolling around on the floor clutching his stomach as if his sides would split from all his laughing.

"Those are mine, mate."

Amelda blanched. Not only was he tired from a day of soul hunting, and not only had he been denied his chance for revenge, he was soaking wet from his unfinished shower, and not only had been caught naked, he was now wearing a set of Varon's underpants while he was laughing at him.

_And they had already been worn._

Feeling the heat in his body rising with each passing second, but unsure of whether it was from embarrassment or anger, Amelda chose to follow the course of the latter and do the only thing he could do – _retaliate_.

And he knew just the subject…

"Varon – why are you here? I thought you were looking for Mai," he said the name scornfully.

Varon's demeanour changed immediately.

"I was…" he began shakily. "But she told me to leave her alone." Eyes lowered, and Varon's shoulders sagged.

Amelda had the sudden feeling that he was out of his depth. Sure, he teased Varon about Mai a lot, but that was when he was sober. He had no idea how he would take to this when he was pissed out of his head.

Varon's body began to tremble.

"She told me that she didn't need me, never has, never would, and never wanted to see me again."

"Varon," began Amelda, but he didn't have a clue what to do. Varon was on his knees on the floor with his head held in his hands. His shoulders began to shake, and Amelda was very worried about the younger boy.

"She hates me, doesn't she mate?"

"Varon…" Amelda walked towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Hahahaha…" Amelda flinched. Varon was laughing manically and it was quite frightening. "She hates me! Isn't it funny, mate?"

Amelda didn't say anything. He was too shocked by Varon's behaviour and sudden change in temperament.

And he thought that drugs had fucked him up!

"I mean, I really, really like Mai, but she'll never love me," hysteria was swiftly replaced by deadly seriousness. "And do you know why?"

"Why, Varon?" asked Amelda tentatively, mentally noting never to offer to buy him a drink.

"Because she's in love with Joey Wheeler."

A moment of reflection left Amelda to realise just how vulnerable Varon actually was. He always put up a front, and pretended that Mai's rejection didn't really bother him. Amelda knew that he was just kidding himself, but he never knew that he was so – so – Amelda couldn't put a name on it, but there was something about seeing Varon this way that made Amelda's heart fill with compassion.

Varon suddenly began trembling violently and hot tears began to glide down his face.

"She loves Wheeler…"

"I don't know what you see in her anyway," whispered Amelda bitterly.

He hated Mai, but he suddenly realised that it wasn't because of her rude personality, bad clothes or selfishness. It was because of what she was doing to Varon.

Varon's sobs echoed throughout the tiled room, and Amelda felt him shiver.

"You're freezing!" he announced thankful for something that he could do.

Leaving him for less than a second, Amelda reached out and snatched up the towel that had been taken from Dartz. Draping the towel over his body, Amelda helped Varon to his feet and led him into his bedroom where he sat him on the edge of the bed while he stood in front of him.

Varon's body continued to shake with the intensity of his tears. Catching his chin in his right hand, Amelda tipped Varon's face towards his.

"She doesn't love me," he sobbed his eyes remaining on the floor.

"But do you love her?" Amelda asked before he even knew what he was saying.

Varon whispered something he couldn't quite hear.

Amelda knelt down in front of Varon drawing his eyes level. Brushing the dark bangs from his eyes, his heart stung when he saw the redness of them.

"Do you love her?"

After a moment of silence.

"No…"

"Then why do you care if she loves Wheeler?"

"Because I don't want to be alone…"

Deep blue eyes were glazed with tears and fighting against sense, Amelda followed his instinct and wrapped his arms around the younger man.

"Varon – you're not alone," he told him, a hand stroking through the mass of messy hair.

"I've always been alone." He spoke between sobs. "I thought that with Mai it would be different – she's just like me, alone. I thought that if she loved me, we could have eachother. We could be alone – together."

"But you just said you didn't love her."

Varon nodded. "I told you, we're just the same. She's in love with someone she'll never have – and so am I…"

Amelda held Varon closer to him, so that his cheek was pressed against his chest. His words caught in his throat, but he managed to croak out his question.

"Who?"

He feared he already knew the answer.

"It doesn't matter. They don't love me – they hate me…you – _you all hate me_…"

Amelda's mind began to throb and his heart raced.

_Surely he couldn't be talking about –_

"Everyone hates me!"

Varon suddenly pushed himself from Amelda and ran straight back into the bathroom covering his mouth.

Amelda knew what was coming next. Closing his eyes he tried to ignore the sounds of violent retching that came from the direction that Varon had disappeared.

The towel lay in Amelda's arms, wet with Varon's tears. Amelda held it to his body as though it was Varon and whispered softly to himself.

"I don't hate you…"

But he refused to think about how he really felt about the other biker boy, because in all honesty, he was shit scared.

Varon was nothing like Mai really. He was more like Amelda. They were both absolutely terrified of being alone, and had both developed rather unsavoury obsessions to take their minds off it – Varon and Mai, Amelda and Kaiba.

In reality, Amelda and Varon were already alone together.

"Urgh!" Varon could still be heard from within the bathroom and Amelda started to wonder about how much he had actually drank.

His guess was he drank enough to numb the pain, and then to pass the time.

"Varon? Are you alright?" he asked as he walked in to check on his colleague.

* * *

Varon was no longer crouched over the toilet bowl like Amelda predicted he would be. He was in actual fact sat in the corner of the shower stall, the cold tap on full blast. His body was still, and although his eyes were open, they were completely devoid of light. 

Amelda gasped.

"Are you crazy?"

Racing towards his fallen comrade, Amelda flung himself into the freezing river and tried to pull Varon out, but the shorter man wouldn't budge. Struggling to lift him to his feet, Amelda bent down and tried to hoist him up by grabbing him by the shoulders, but due to the uncooperativeness of Varon, he was the one pulled down.

Amelda landed between Varon's legs, and in one last desperate attempt to help him, begged.

"Please Varon."

Varon suddenly seemed to snap awake, a small amount of light entering his eyes.

"What's going on, mate?" he questioned, his eyes blinking in a confused manner, although he still remained in a dazed state and couldn't hear anything much beside the pounding of blood echoing in his head.

Amelda helped Varon back into the bedroom, although it was a wonder they managed it without falling.

"Do you want to get changed?" he asked, referring to his drenched armour.

Varon nodded slowly, lifted his hands to his shoulders, and then stopped.

"Mate? Can I have a hand?"

Varon's hands were frozen like ice and he could barely twitch his fingers.

Amelda tried to calculate how long Varon had been in the shower as he approached him. Cautiously, he began to undo the series of straps that held his shoulder plates in place and let them drop to the floor. Next, he tackled the large plates of armour that protected his torso, and was surprised to find that Varon wore nothing underneath.

Taking a step back, it was all Amelda could do not to stare at his comrade. He had only ever seen him in full gear, never stripped to the waist in moonlight. He was breathtaking.

"What?"

Amelda was startled out of his trance suddenly.

"Can you manage those by yourself?" he asked, nodding to his pants.

Varon attempted to undo the fastenings, but his hands were still too cold. He shook his head.

"I'm pathetic aren't I?"

"Don't be stupid," scolded Amelda as he proceeded to unzip his pants for him. Amelda stopped halfway and covered him with the towel. He gave him a gentle smile of reassurance.

Varon suddenly noticed that Amelda was shivering, and that cold water was dripping from his magenta locks. Picking up the towel, Varon wrapped both him and Amelda up in it.

"Varon?"

"Shush, mate. You're like bloody ice!" said Varon.

Varon wrapped his arms around Amelda's narrow waist, pulling the two into a tight embrace. His dark hair tickled against Amelda's chest, but he was too stunned to notice.

The two stood in silence for a moment, but after a while, Amelda felt short, sharp blasts of cold air against his skin. Varon was crying again. Amelda brought his arms to Varon's shoulders as he took a seat on the edge and pulled him into his lap.

"What's wrong Varon?" he asked. Dealing with Varon when he was intoxicated was a good deal harder than he ever would have expected. It was a lot worse then when he was stoned. It was like having to console a small child. Then again, in a way, all Doma members were children. They had all experienced something that had taken away their families and made them grow up fast and learn to count on no one but themselves.

But the difference between him and Raphael and Varon was that while they had been part of loving families, Varon had never had anyone. He didn't know what it felt like to have people who cared for him.

_He didn't know how it felt to be loved._

"I don't hate you," said Amelda softly and impulsively.

Varon, who was like a baby in his arms, looked up suddenly. He had been expecting to see anything but the sincerity that he found in Amelda's grey eyes.

"What did you say?" he asked incredulously, not believing what he was hearing.

Amelda tipped his head down so that their noses were almost touching. Seeing both the fear and the hope in Varon's eyes, he knew his earlier thoughts had been confirmed.

"I don't hate you, Varon…"

Amelda pressed his lips to Varon's in a gentle kiss, and then withdrew. "But do you hate me?" he questioned as he cupped Varon's face in his hand.

"No…"

Amelda's hand slid around the back of his neck, and his fingers tangled in the thick fudge locks.

"Amelda?" Varon's voice trembled as Amelda pulled him into another, deeper kiss.

Amelda stopped. "What?"

Varon looked like Joey Wheeler caught in front of a Blue Eyes for a moment, and then a smirk formed on his soft lips. "If we're gonna do this, I wanna be on top."

Amelda laughed, although his heart was pounding for fear he'd read the signs wrong. "Not if I get there first…" he said, dropping the towel.

Varon shifted in his lap and stole a kiss from the amused man. His tongue glided into Amelda's mouth and caressed its counterpart. Amelda was taken aback for a moment and let Varon take a tender kiss from him. Sensing that Amelda was willing to let him have control – at least for the time being – Varon intensified the kiss. His tongue dived in and out of their joined mouths, and his lips pushed against Amelda's, making them swell and bruise.

Removing his hands from Amelda's waist, Varon slid them up the smooth expanse of skin on his chest, the rough material of his gloves burning against the pale flesh making Amelda moan. His brought them to his shoulders and pushed him back onto the bed, not once breaking the kiss. Amelda felt Varon slither up his legs until he was settled just below his groin, their erections brushing against eachother.

Not liking where he was positioned, Amelda decided that it was time he took over. Gently, Amelda sucked on Varon's tongue, making the younger boy gasp at the strange, yet erotic sensation. Amelda felt Varon pause to revel in his newfound pleasure. Never one to pass up an advantage, Amelda proceeded to flip Varon onto his back.

Varon cried out in shock, and then resentment at being tricked and having his power taken away, but was soon pacified when Amelda began to place hot kisses along his collarbone, making him sigh in contentment. As Amelda's lips continued their journey along his neck and jaw, his fingers swept downwards until they reached the half-fastened pants.

"I thought," he said between kisses, "I told you to take these off."

Varon lifted his hips, allowing Amelda to pull them from his body and dropped them off the side of the bed. Amelda stopped to admire Varon in all his naked glory, and realised all too late that it was unwise to leave an aroused Varon unattended.

Varon had wriggled lower on the bed so that he was lying under Amelda's chest. Varon snaked his tongue out of his mouth and flicked them over Amelda's nipples in firm strokes, making him moan and shiver. Amelda's arms, which were the only things supporting him, began to tremble as Varon's teasing tongue traced over his stomach, all the while Varon was making his way to his goal.

"Ahh! Varon! Fuck!" cried Amelda as Varon began to suck his burning desire through the cotton boxers that he was wearing. The combination of Varon's tongue massaging against the throbbing organ and the feel of wet material against the sensitive skin was sending Amelda close to the edge. The tongue brushed over the moist tip and Amelda's fists clawed at the sheets on the bed.

Just when he thought he couldn't take it any longer, Varon stopped, making him growl in disappointment.

"I think I'll be wanting these back now," his hands tugging on the hem of the pants.

Amelda sat back on his heels and cocked his head to one side.

"Well then why don't you take them?" he challenged.

Varon gave a feral smile and pounced. Twisting the two bodies together, he pinned Amelda to the bed by his wrists. He began to trail feather light kisses over his smooth chest, that tongue paying particular attention to his hardening nipples. Amelda gave cry of frustration. Varon was driving him crazy, damn it!

Freeing himself from Varon's grip, Amelda twisted his hands into Varon's hair and he attempted to push the other man lower, directing his playful mouth and tongue to where he wanted it most.

Varon's tongue trailed from Amelda's naval to the line of the borrowed undergarments. Capturing the hem in his teeth, Varon – with excruciating slowness – started to remove the pants. Fighting against the urge to explode, Amelda bit his lip so hard it began to bleed, and Varon having finished his task, was only too happy to kiss it better. Climbing back up over the muscled body belonging to Amelda, Varon seductively trailed his fingers along Amelda's thighs, stopping short of where he most wanted to touch.

Tasting the sharp flavour of Amelda sent a tremor up Varon's spine, and he breathed into the passionate kiss. Amelda felt like he was drowning in his euphoric haze, his fingers still entangled in thick strands of chocolate. Pulling Varon back down towards him, he revealed something he never thought he'd ever tell anyone – let alone himself.

"I never hated you, you know. Not even when you thought I was a girl."

Varon's face was hard – impossible to read, and Amelda feared that he may have overstepped the mark – said too much, and now he was unable to take it back.

"I never hated you either – not even when I found out you're a bloke," he admitted.

The honesty of Amelda's words, the look in his eyes, and not to mention the alcohol in his system, fuelled Varon's next confession.

"I – I really, really like you, mate. Even more than Mai…" he said dreamily, placing a soft kiss on Amelda's lips.

He didn't hear Amelda's reply because he fell asleep in his arms.

"That's good, Varon."

There was a pause.

"Because I think I love you…"

* * *

How was that? I know, I guess they were a bit OOC but you have to remember that Varon is drunk, and Amelda is finally 'following his instincts.' The problem is will Varon still feel the same way in the morning when he has sobered up? What will happen between him and Amelda? 

I was gonna make this into a series of one-shots, but if you want me to continue with this story – tell me! I won't know if you don't review!


	2. Joey x Varon

Hate And Other Four Letter Words

Thank you to everyone who reviewed this story! I mean, wow! When I first posted this no one reviewed for ages – but now! I love you all! I really mean it.

Okay, this is not the chapter that continues on from the Varon x Ameda fic. I have decided to leave this as a series of one shots about the Doma gang. Each will have a pairing with at least one person belonging to Doom. If any gets reviews saying that they want the story continued then I will be happy to do it.

The sequel to the first Varon x Amelda fic will be 'The Other Side Of Hate,' and I'll write and post the first chapter as soon as possible! Also, if there's any pairing that you'd really like to see tell me and I'll see what I can come up with! I already have an idea for another Varon x Ameda fic so keep your eyes open and your alerts on!

A/N personally, I don't think this is anywhere near as good as the Varon x Amelda fic. I don't even know if it makes sense. And it's the longest one shot I've done so far – don't read if you're on the verge of sleep – this might put you in a coma!

* * *

Joey Wheeler rested his motorcycle against the rough concrete wall, hoping beyond hope that the stone wouldn't scratch its paintjob. The last one had cost him a bomb. He blamed Tristan. Tristan had challenged him to something akin to a drag race along with Marik, Amelda and Raphael. It wasn't so much a competition for the prize – _there wasn't one_ – it was for pride and glory.

Well, for Marik it was a chance to show off his new Harley-Davison, Tristan wanted to impress Serenity and Amelda and Raphael…well, they just probably had nothing better to do. Not after Doma decided to disband and they were left to themselves. But surprisingly, the group stayed together – not as the same criminal organisation, mind you, but as – _friends_.

Or so it seemed. That was the main reason Joey agreed to all the hoopla in the first place. He had hoped since Doma were participating, he would be able to see Varon. Joey had heard that Mai was gonna be there, which was accompanied by a _'nudge-nudge, wink-wink'_ from Tristan. Since all the business with the Oricalchos, Tristan had become obsessed with the _'down right obvious'_ as he liked to call it.

But whatever. Joey tended to blank out at these moments, finding that Mai's name only stirred memories of a certain chocolate haired biker who had been equally as obsessed as Tristan with Mai. Joey had reasoned that Varon would use the race as the perfect opportunity to show his own skills – to prove himself to Mai. As it was, Joey – like always – was wrong.

* * *

Flashback

The sun glared brightly at the gang, who were currently making their way to the 'special location' that had been chosen for today's 'fun.' Tristan was having the time of his life – mainly because it was him who had organised it, but also because now that Duke wasn't here, Serenity was spending a lot more time with him. Well, that was what he thought. As it was, Serenity spent a whole lot more of her time floating between Joey and Mai. It was pretty obvious to everyone that Serenity was using this as a match-making opportunity.

Well, everyone except Joey – well, _it is_ Joey – who seemed really preoccupied with something else. In fact, Joey hadn't heard anything his sister said to either him or Mai. After a while, Joey drifted off into his own little world. You see, something had been occupying his thoughts for a while now. _Something important_.

It was a promise, and as everyone knows, Joey Wheeler never breaks a promise. Not to his friends, his family or even his enemies. But this promise was different. This was a promise to himself.

"He's not coming, you know."

Joey turned and saw Amelda and Raphael rapidly approaching.

"Who isn't?" asked Joey.

"Oh, come on Wheeler!" exclaimed Amelda. "Quit playing dumb – who do you think?"

Joey looked around at the group that had gathered. All his friends – minus Duke who was back in California – were here. Then he looked towards the Doma party. Most of them were already here.

"Kaiba?" he said.

Raphael and Amelda deadpanned and then fell off their motorcycles.

"There is no way you are seriously that dumb," muttered Raphael.

Amelda decided not to remount his vehicle, and instead – like everyone else – began to push his bike instead. "Varon, you idiot!"

That caught Joey's attention. "What? Why?"

The red head shrugged.

"Where is he?"

"We don't know," Raphael's rough voice rang in his ears. "After what happened with Master Dartz, he disappeared without a trace."

"Packed up his bags and left – not a word to anyone," added Amelda.

Although he said nothing else, Amelda's eyes betrayed his thoughts.

_Not even me._

Joey was pensive for a moment. Varon hadn't told anyone he was leaving. Amelda and Varon, although they denied it, were good friends and yet he hadn't even told him.

_Not a word to anyone, not even – _

"Not even Mai?" asked Joey.

Amelda cringed at the name – he still didn't like the bleached blonde woman anymore then he had when they had first been introduced.

"What about me, hon?" asked Mai slowing down so that she was travelling at the same pace as everyone else, Serenity following close behind with stars in her eyes.

"Did Varon say anything to you about leaving?" questioned Joey.

Mai looked at him for a moment, as though seriously wondering why Joey was asking her this. She gave a shrill laugh, but Joey could tell it was forced. "He didn't say a word," she admitted, flicking her long hair over her shoulder. "Not that I care," she added, her eyes downcast. Although Mai wouldn't admit it, Varon's leaving had shaken her a little. It wasn't so much that he had gone, but it was because it was him. Mai had never expected him to leave. She thought he would continue to follow her in his bid to win her over.

But that had never happened. After the final confrontation with Dartz, Varon had disappeared. He took everything – well, all that he had, which wasn't much. A few scarce items of clothing, his deck, and of course, his bike. The only things he left were those that he no longer wanted, needed, and hadn't belonged to him to begin with.

A few days after noticing that Varon was no longer trailing her, Mai had went back to Doma Headquarters to make sure that Varon was okay. When she arrived, she was already too late. Amelda and Raphael had already checked up on the impulsive man and his room was empty save for a bed and an empty wardrobe. On the bed was a pile of neatly – well, neatly for Varon that is – folded sheets. On top of these were his Chaos Duel Disk, the Seal of the Oricalchos card and a small fragment of the stone set in a ring.

That had told them all they needed to know.

"He's gone…" Mai had said in disbelief.

Amelda nodded grimly.

What Varon had done had hurt everyone who was either close to him or cared for him. That was what upset Mai so much and offended Amelda. Like everything given to him by Dartz, he had discarded them all as unneeded and unwanted items – _things that no longer had any place or purpose in his life._

"I don't believe it," Joey exclaimed. "Why would he do something like that? Why would he run away?"

Mai kept her eyes cast downwards, Raphael glanced at Amelda who in turn looked directly at Wheeler.

"Varon has never run away from anything in his life. He left because he had to. And he had to leave us all behind too," he added in a whisper.

Joey couldn't understand why Varon would want to leave his friends, and – albeit a strange and at times down right scary – family. He also couldn't understand what could possibly tear him away from all of them. They had all been through so much – it was hard to imagine how he could just up and leave like that. _As though nothing and no one else mattered_.

"I'm gonna find him."

Everyone turned to stare at Joey who had stopped dead in his tracks, fists clenched by his sides.

"There's no way you'll find him," Amelda replied sadly.

"I'll find him," said Joey again, his voice full of conviction.

"You're crazy," Mai told him. "Besides, do you really think Yugi and all his buddies are gonna be happy to see you leave for Lord knows how long on a wild goose chase who knows where for a guy who tried to seal your soul?" by now, Mai was trembling.

"Mai…"

"No, Joey listen. The reason I joined Doma in the first place was so that I could get revenge on you – do you know why? I was angry at you. _And jealous_. You saw everything so simply, if you were someone's friend, you stuck by them to the end, no matter what. When I looked at my own life, I couldn't find anyone like that – only you. That's when I decided I had to take you down because I'd never be happy until I'd proved you wrong."

Mai looked up at Joey. "But it was me who was wrong, Joey. There had been someone looking out for me all along and that was you, but I couldn't see that. I didn't want to be alone Joey, and you never left me alone. You stayed true and risked your soul for me. Joey – don't leave me alone."

Joey took Mai's hand in his. "Mai, I've never left you before, and I promise I will never leave you." Mai seemed to smile a little. "And I never break a promise to a friend." Mai's smile faded. "Just because I'm not here won't mean I don't still care about you – besides, Mai you have lots of friends. You always have. You were just too afraid of getting hurt to believe that."

Joey let go and turned to all of his friends. "You guys, I love you and everything, but this is just something I gotta do, you know?"

"Wait!" Tristan held out an arm and stopped him from moving.

"What, man?" asked Joey.

"If you can beat us in a race, then – then you can go and do what you have to do."

Joey smiled and accepted.

"But, you lose – then you stay. I don't want you to upset Serenity," he added.

"So, the terms are agreed then?" asked Marik with a grin. "The winner will get a request of their choice."

Everyone participating in the race nodded. Now all Joey had to do was win. Which was a lot easier than it sounded. After all, he was up against Tristan who'd had a motorcycle since he was seven, Marik who had recently won a Championship and Amelda and Raphael who could jump out of moving planes while riding.

_Oh shit._

Tea, Yugi/Yami and Bakura were waiting for the riders at the top of a steep hill. On one side was a worn path and on the other was a gravel trial that led to a muddy road covered in bark. The road then went over a low bridge and a small wood with tightly packed trees followed. The idea was that the bikers would start at the top of the hill, race across the bridge and through the woods and then follow the river back to the base of the hill.

"Good luck, Joey," said Yugi sincerely. "I know you can do this – just believe in yourself."

"Thanks Yug."

"Everybody ready?" asked Tea, who was stood opposite Serenity. They were acting as the starter and finisher respectively, each armed with a large black and white chequered flag.

"Wait!" Mai suddenly appeared with her helmet tucked under one arm. "Joey, get ready for the ride of your life – I'm not about to let you go so easily."

Joey nodded, but he couldn't quite understand why Mai was taking his leaving so badly. Joey Wheeler, it seems, was quite dense.

"Okay then," said Tea when Mai finished putting on her helmet. "Will all the racers please line up on the starting line – between to two picnic baskets – right." Tea waited until everyone was in position. "Ready…set…GO!" waving her flag wildly she led the cheering and shouts of support for each and every racer, jumping around. Serenity tried to be as enthusiastic, but she couldn't help but feel a little hopeful that her brother wouldn't win. She really didn't want him to leave anymore than Mai…

Raphael and Amelda pulled in front immediately, followed closely by Marik, which was no surprise seeing as they had the best bikes. Next was Mai who kept only slightly in front of Joey who was level with Tristan.

Marik leaned forward into a jump from the top of the hill and the momentum sent him in front of Raphael. Laughing in celebration, Marik didn't notice a log that had toppled over directly in his path and was sent flying over it. Bakura quickly raced to check that the Egyptian was alright.

The obstacle was easily jumped by the rest of the group, but unfortunately for Tristan, the bridge was only wide enough for one bike at a time, and at the last second Joey beat him to it and he was pushed off the track. He was alright, but had burst his rear tire on a river rock and kicked it in frustration.

Raphael and Amelda started to slow as soon as they were in the woods. While they expertly dodged the thick trunks the two began a brief exchange.

"Do you think Wheeler would be able to find Varon?" asked Amelda.

"I think he's got the best chance out of any of us," replied Raphael. "If Wheeler's the reason he left – he'll be the reason if he ever comes back." Raphael looked at Amelda critically. His shoulders were hunched and his body tense. "Why didn't you go after him?"

"If he had wanted me to find him he wouldn't have left me in the first place…" replied Amelda sadly.

Raphael nodded to himself. It was obvious that there was a lot more to Varon and Amelda's relationship than could be seen, but he wasn't about to push his red haired companion. He was the only family he had left now that Varon had left.

Amelda suddenly pulled to a stop. "Do you think we should give him a chance?"

"I think you've already made your choice." Raphael stopped next to Amelda. "And so have I."

Joey was finding it impossible to pull in front of Mai. Every time he feinted left or right, she would match him, move for move. It was driving him crazy.

"Mai!" he called out. "Why won't you let me go!"

"Because!" she screamed back.

"Because _what_?"

Mai shot a quick glance back at Joey. "Because I love you!" she shouted. Unfortunately, as she did, she turned and the bike skidded on a particularly muddy patch of earth. Mai crashed to the ground.

"Mai!" Joey leapt off his bike and ran to help her. She wasn't badly injured – just a few cuts and bruises. He swept her into his arms and began lifting her up. "Are you alright?"

She nodded and then pulled herself closer into Joey's hold.

"I'm sorry," he said. "This is all my fault. Mai, I had no idea."

"You don't love me back, do you?" she whispered with a shaky sob.

"I'm sorry, Mai."

"Why?" she asked, tears falling down her dirty face.

"Because…" Joey stopped. He didn't know. Sure, she was good-looking and although she acted tough and uncaring was actually quite nice, but Joey just didn't feel that way about her. But he didn't know why. Now that he thought about it, he must be crazy not to want her, but – he didn't. _And he didn't know why, damn it! _

Joey wanted to say something, anything. But how could he answer a question that he didn't know the answer for?

Joey never answered Mai's question, and he never brought it up again. He carried her to the finish line where there was a big fuss over them. Moments later, Amelda and Raphael had emerged from the wood, each wheeling two bikes.

Joey was named the winner by default and as he left, he never once turned back.

End Flashback

* * *

That had been nearly three years ago now. His bike had been trashed after he crashed it into a tree to help Mai and it had taken him ages to save up enough money to get the thing fixed up again. While travelling, he had to take up many jobs to pay for the repairs, some were okay, some were awful and some were things Joey prayed he would never have to do again.

Joey sighed as he removed his helmet. It was electric blue to match the bike. Joey Wheeler rode a Classic Tornado X100. He had rescued it from a junkyard and spent months with Tristan and Marik restoring it until it was perfect. He loved his bike almost as much as he treasured his Red Eyes.

Three years ago he had set out from Domino intending to find Varon. Three years later he had been halfway around the world in his search and yet still didn't have anything that could help him. Every time he thought he had a lead or something, it wasn't him or it led to a dead end. In his desperation, Joey had even travelled to Australia, hoping that the Aussie may have returned to his homeland. No one had even heard of him.

Well, not so much hadn't heard of him, as much as they didn't want to admit to knowing him. Varon had had a particularly bad reputation when he was younger and no body really wanted anything to do with him anymore. When Joey left Australia he cursed the people. He couldn't believe that just because Varon had made some mistakes they weren't willing to help him. They wouldn't even give him a chance.

Joey no longer wondered why Varon had wanted to join Doma.

But even that didn't take away the aching loneliness that Joey himself felt. He had sworn that he would find and refused to return to Domino until he had. Every so often he would speak with his friends, but it wasn't often – that would hurt way too much. He wouldn't go back until he had found him – returning empty handed just wasn't an option. Joey's friends put all this down to his stubbornness and pride. Even Joey didn't know that he had an ulterior motive for tracking down the lost biker.

Joey shrugged off his leather jacket as he walked into what appeared to be a diner/pub/inn. Joey, although he wasn't fond of such establishments, was extremely happy to see it. As it was, he had been riding for ages without so much as a trace of civilisation and since he was in the middle of nowhere, Joey was thankful for somewhere to rest his head and feed his body.

It was smoky on the inside of the building, although it could have anyone of a mixture of things. On one side of the entrance was a smoking area, filled with grizzly bearded men with cigarettes and pipes, on the other was where they served food, the kitchens right behind. From the commotion that was coming from within, Joey could only guess that something was burning.

Joey walked inside some more and spotted the bar. _Perfect_. As he approached he watched as the barman expertly made up a cocktail for one of the patrons. Joey was slightly envious of his skill. If he ever tried anything like that he'd end up getting it everywhere, or even worse, kill someone with a lethal mix.

Joey suddenly realised that he had been staring, but he couldn't help it. The barman looked so easy. He was actually sat on the counter, one foot resting on a stool and the other tucked under him on the tabletop. He rested his head on one hand, his elbow propped up on his knee, laughing and joking with the customers. All the while, his other hand never stopped mixing up the concoction in the shaker.

Although he couldn't quite see the face, Joey was quite taken with this barman. That was one thing that he had found out while out looking for Varon – he was bi. It was a bit of a shock at first, but then it didn't come as that much of a surprise to him. It sure as hell explained why Kaiba got to him so much – he had had a crush on him. It embarrassed him to think of it now, but he was pretty sure he was over it – so what if he was rich and hot? Joey could do better than that cold hearted bastard.

The man had long brown hair which fell to the top of his thighs. It was messy and wild, but that added to his charm. The colour was warm and brought out by the bright red shirt that he wore, which had been tucked into tight black trousers. The most unusual thing about his appearance was that he appeared to be wearing leather gloves and biker boots that seemed oddly familiar…

Relaxed conversation drifted to Joey's ears and he was surprised to hear a voice that he had remembered for three long years and never given up hope for.

"Varon?"

Suddenly, all noise in the diner/pub/inn stopped and everyone turned to stare at the newcomer, including the barman. The cocktail shaker was in mid throw, but he mistimed the catch.

"Joey?"

And the drink spilled all over the floor.

* * *

"What are you doing out here, mate?" asked Varon. "This here doesn't seem like your neck of the woods."

The two were now outside. Joey leant against the concrete wall next to his bike and Varon sat on an old stool that had been discarded, but not yet removed. He looked uncomfortable – as though he was a child who had been caught skiving for the first time.

"I was looking for something," replied Joey ambiguously.

"Really?" Varon raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Joey suddenly stood up straight and stood right in front of him. "Don't give me any of this shit!" he shouted suddenly. "Where the hell have you been? You took off without saying anything – you didn't tell anyone! Do you know how worried I was? I've been looking for you for three years! I even went to Australia to try and find you!" Joey took a deep breath to calm himself and looked at the floor with such intensity that the pebbles could have melted. "Why didn't you tell me? Why did you leave?"

"I had to," he said quietly. "It was something I had to do."

"Without telling us? Do you know how that felt? You left us with the Oricalchos and all the things to do with Dartz that you no longer wanted! It was like you wanted to forget us – like you didn't need us! You left us along with all the other crap and made us feel like nothing but shit to you! What? Didn't you want us? Weren't we good enough to be a part of your life?"

"You don't understand, Joey."

"What don't I understand?" Joey was shouting again. "Tell me!" Joey grabbed Varon by the front of his shirt and lifted him off his feet.

Something inside Varon suddenly snapped. He pushed Joey away from him, and this time it was him who was screaming. "You selfish bastard! I can't believe you! Do you want to know why I left, Joey? I left because of you!"

"What?" Joey was taken back.

"You defeated me – you proved that you were better than me. What was there left for me? You became everything I wanted to be – you were a hero. You had friends, a family – people who loved you and cared for you. When I left I hated you, Joey Wheeler."

"You left – because I won? Varon, don't you know that you have people who care about you – you have friends, and a family."

"You don't understand. Even if I did, I'd always have been second best – and it's all your fault. You took everything I thought I wanted – you even took Mai. Why can't you leave me alone?" He had spent the better past of three years trying to forget Joey, and just when he thought he had, he shows up out of nowhere.

_Somewhere, Dartz must be pissing himself over this,_ he thought dryly.

"Duel me," said Joey suddenly. It could have been a request, but they both knew it was an order. Joey walked over to his bike and withdrew his Duel Disk, already loaded with his deck.

"But, I don't have mine…" Varon's feeble attempt at a refusal hung limply in the air.

Joey looked at him blankly for a moment, and then remembered that he had left his behind. "Oh yeah," he put a hand behind his head sheepishly as he handed another Duel Disk to Varon. "Never leave home without a spare."

Varon looked suspiciously at Joey's outstretched hand, the Duel Disk and Joey himself. "Why?"

Joey looked at him curiously. "Well, for one thing, the first one may malfunction – I know Kaiba says they never malfunction and mine never has but you know what they say…"

"No. I mean why do you want to duel me? You've already won. Twice."

"Varon, I made a promise to myself after our last battle. I promised that I'd find you again and duel you to see who really deserved to win. Back then, we were both fighting for Mai. This time, I want us to be fighting for nothing and no one but ourselves. I can tell you now, I've never broken a promise yet – not to my friends, my family and the last person I wanna let down is myself, so are you game or what?"

Joey's powerful speech touched something inside of Varon. He felt a fire that he hadn't experienced in years. "Okay mate," he said with a feral grin. "But don't come crying to me when I kick your butt to the kerb."

Joey laughed. "You're on."

"Why didn't you play you're last card?" demanded Joey. He grabbed Varon by the front of his shirt again and pulled him close.

Joey had won, but the duel had been tight. It came down to the last 250 Life Points. They both had one monster with the same number of Attack Points. Varon had two face down cards. Joey had one.

Varon shrugged. "It wouldn't have made a difference."

"What do you mean it wouldn't have made a difference?" spat Joey, one fist clenched by his side.

"You would have won anyway."

"What are you talking about?" the knuckles were turning white.

"You always win – you've won everything. The duel, my soul, Mai – _everything_." Varon's eyes shone brightly with tears.

"Mai? What does Mai have to do with this?"

"Joey, do you know what Mai means to me?" asked Varon.

"I thought you loved her."

Varon shook his head. "To me, Mai represents myself. I mean, we're pretty much the same – grew up alone, had no one and then joined Doma. There was a reason that I wanted to prove to Mai I was better than you – I wanted to prove it to myself."

"Mai told me she loves me," said Joey suddenly as he released his grip.

"I know."

"Then she asked me if I loved her back."

"What did you say?"

"I told her I didn't."

"Why?"

"Because – I don't know. I don't know!" Joey turned and punched the wall with his still clenched fist. He was still angry with himself for hurting Mai, but he was even more angry with himself. Three years later, he still couldn't come up with a good reason.

"Why don't you love her Joey?" asked Varon again.

Joey pounced and caught him by the throat. His eyes bore into bright blue ones, which had been filling with unshed tears.

"I don't know!" he raged, his own voice cracking under the strain of dealing with everything that had transpired. Al he had wanted was to find Varon – to bring him back to Domino, back to his friends and his family and –

Although he could barely breath, Varon managed to croak out his next question. "Why don't you love me, Joey?"

– and that was when it all made sense to Joey. Everything he had been through in the past three years, why he needed to see him again. Why he didn't love Mai. Joey dropped him suddenly and fell to his knees.

"I'm so sorry, Varon."

Varon took in a gasp of air and moved so that he was knelt in front of Joey. A single solitary tear fell down his face. "Why?" he asked, his wide eyes so open – so innocent.

"Varon, I'm sorry, but I – I don't – I don't' love…" he began shakily.

Varon's heart feel further than he thought it could fall, and he wondered if he would ever find the bottom. He guessed he knew it all along. How could Joey Wheeler fall for a loser like him? Someone who had been too afraid to face up to his feelings in the first place and ran away…

"…I don't love Mai..."

Varon looked up suddenly, but Joey was busy staring at the ground just in front of his knees.

"…because I love you."

Varon's heart somersaulted and flipped a few times before he finally managed to process what he had just heard. _Joey Wheeler had just said he loved him. _

Varon jumped and grabbed Joey by the shoulders of his shirt. Before he could change his mind, Varon moved his mouth over Joey's in a rough, bruising kiss that sent the pair falling backwards. Joey landed with an 'oomph' and Varon took advantage of his shock.

He straddled him and gently teased his lips open with his tongue. Joey let out a sigh as Varon's tongue began to caress the inside of his mouth, brushing against his own and tickling the soft skin of his lips.

Suddenly, Joey pulled away.

"What?" asked Varon.

"Why didn't you tell me you felt this way?" he asked.

"Because I thought you hated me," he admitted.

Joey propped himself up on his elbows. "Is that why you left all those years ago?"

Varon nodded. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Joey looked thoughtful for a moment. "I didn't know until just now."

They stared at each other in silence for a while, unsure of what to do next. Until now, it was Joey who had done all the chasing, Varon decided it was time for him to take over.

"I want you so bad right now," said Varon swooping down to place a soft kiss on Joey's lips.

Joey accepted it, and then put his hands on Varon's chest and pushed him back. Varon looked shocked for a moment until he realised what Joey wanted to do. But it didn't mean that he had to give it to him easy. Varon waited until the two of them were both sitting vertical before he initiated another forceful kiss and planted a number of kisses on Joey's neck, just under his jaw on a vein. Joey groaned and stopped. Varon moved down, his teeth nipping at the pale skin, turning it red.

Varon tangled his fingers in the hair at the base of Joey's neck and pulled, forcing his head back and exposing his prize. Varon began to suckle on the lump in Joey's throat, in time with his pulse which sent his heartbeat soaring.

"Varon…" he breathed.

Varon smirked as he stopped. "Yes?" he loved teasing him, especially since he could feel the effect he was having on Joey. He knew he was turning him on.

"Damn you, why did you – ah!" All complaints soon faded as Varon started attacking Joey anew. Joey felt gloved hands slide up his chest, the fingers playing with his nipples and making them harden. Varon's mouth, meanwhile, had also been hard at work. While his fingers were occupied with what was under Joey's shirt, his teeth began to methodically opening the buttons.

When he had finished, he kissed Joey again, this time, more desperate and full of longing. Their tongues battled, and Joey barely noticed when Varon's hands removed his shirt. The cool afternoon air brushed over his already sensitized skin, making him tremble.

As the two kissed, Varon pulled Joey down on top of him and when the two parted, they were both panting. The light began to fade and as it changed, Joey noticed that Varon's top had gone transparent and it gave him a wicked idea. He gripped Varon's wrists and pulled them down so that they lay on the floor next to his head so that there was no chance With a teasing grin, Joey lowered his head onto Varon's chest.

Varon tried to lift himself so that he could see what was coming, but failed for all he could see was the dirty blonde hair belonging to Joey Wheeler.

"Joey?" but then whatever else he had hoped to say was lost to the world as he gasped loudly.

Joey smirked as he continued to torment Varon, gently sucking at one of his nipples through his silk shirt. Varon struggled against the torture, but Joey only tightened his grip. Moving on the next one, Joey flicked his tongue over the silk, brushing the smooth fabric as well as his tongue over the hardening flesh.

"Joey…" cried Varon shakily as he squirmed underneath him. Accidentally, Varon brushed against Joey's hard length, which sent shockwaves through them both.

Joey cried out and released Varon from his death grip. Varon ground his hips upwards, rolling them against Joey's and then pulled him down for another erotic kiss. Joey's breaths came in ragged pants…

_"Shit!"_

Joey woke up tangled in his sheets which clung to his sweat soaked body. Last night he had found Varon and in the hours that followed, he had found heaven in the arms of the one that he loved. Now, he was exhausted, but ecstacially happy. He stretched and reached an arm across the bed to embrace Varon.

There was no one there.

Shocked, Joey tore off the covers, not believing what his hands had told him. Tears stung at his eyes as bright sunlight glared at him through his window. There on the pillow next to him, he found Varon's red silk shirt. Wrapped up inside it was his deck. Varon was gone.

Three years ago he had left in search of Varon. In those three years since he had found him. He had found Varon, haunting his memories, filling his thoughts and inside his heart. And he found himself – like the Oricalchios, like Doma, like Dartz and now his deck – discarded.

For the first time since his parents split up him and Serenity, Joey Wheeler collapsed in unstoppable floods of tears. Now he understood why Varon had let him win the duel – there would be no more reason for him to find him.

Three years ago, Varon had left because of him. Three years later, Varon had left him again. This time, Joey didn't know if he'd be able to find him again.

The tears fell steadily and Joey's heart clenched painfully in his chest. He hugged the deck to his heart.

Varon was gone. But then so was all his hate. Now all that was left was – well, at least Joey believed – love.

And hope.

Joey smiled gently to himself through his tears.

_Yeah, there was always hope…_


	3. Seto x Amelda

**Hate And Other Four Letter Words**

Heh, I know I haven't updated this in a while, but what can I say?

Anyway, I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed 'Hate And Other Four Letter Words' – I'm really grateful for all the comments and suggestions you've given me. I've decided not to ramble at the start of this one, so I will leave you. Enjoy!

* * *

There are certain words that are used to describe the man known as Seto Kaiba – rich as Hell – successful – all in all, a great life…

And that was why Amelda couldn't think what the hell was going on.

For a while now, he had been following Seto Kaiba; learning his routine while trying to see if he had any weaknesses and the like so that he could eventually bring him down. But of course, Seto Kaiba being, well – Seto Kaiba had made what should have been a relatively simple task infuriatingly difficult.

So much so that Amelda had often found himself losing track of said Kaiba, or trying to predict his moves, but messing up completely.

It was as though the man had no agenda, no set plans for his time. Once he had tracked Kaiba halfway around the world on what seemed to him to be an impulsive moment. Then there were the times that he should have been somewhere – like school, but he wouldn't show. Amelda assumed that that meant he would be at Kaiba Corp. but he was proved wrong on a number of occasions.

Times like this, it was like the man had just vanished off the face of the Earth.

Other times, he had been so bored he seriously considered re-forming Doma – even with Varon, and using the Oricalchos to steal souls so that they could summon the Great Leviathan and wreck havoc upon unsuspecting mortals.

He really was that bored.

Oh, but it wasn't Seto Kaiba that bored him; it was what he did.

Honestly, how the man lived such a monotonous life he had no idea. If that were him, he would be constantly shooting himself up with LSD. And he spent so much of his time working, too. On second thoughts, Amelda thought that he would probably need a fair amount of Speed as well.

_No wonder he enjoys duelling so much, even if he does always lose to the Pharaoh._

And it was true. As far as Amelda could see, Seto Kaiba lived the single, most excruciatingly painfully uninteresting existence known to man.

His days were filled with endless meeting; meetings with the Board of Directors, meetings with the Company Executives, meeting with new clients, on and on…

And it wasn't like they had a lot of interesting stuff to talk about either; it was all statistics and time management plans. Amelda had wanted to hang himself from the light fixtures.

And when it wasn't meetings it was paperwork. Forms from Finance, business plans from Marketing, systems analysis' from I.T. Amelda had never seen so much white paper in his life, let alone stacked into such towers so high they gave the Tower of Pisa a run for its money, but there Kaiba was, methodically removing, reading and then signing piece by piece, page after page.

Amelda actually shivered at the thought of people who wanted to be Seto Kaiba.

And that was before you factored in the worst aspect of life as Kaiba; Mokuba.

Mokuba Kaiba – the hyperactive, impossible to refuse, adorable younger brother of Seto Kaiba. Women found him sweeter than sugar and men cowered in fear at him, almost as much as did when confronted by his brother. His brother was Seto Kaiba, after all.

Amelda himself was actually quite fond of the little brat. He was so much like Miiroku that at times he felt his brother wasn't actually, well, you know…

But that wasn't what he was currently thinking about.

After years of swearing revenge, months of planning revenge and a few weeks away from hopefully reeking revenge, everything that he thought he knew about Kaiba had suddenly been ripped to shreds – torn to bits and then swallowed by the Great Leviathan.

Seto Kaiba was supposed to be a highly respected, although often feared, businessman who lived his life by the rules and by the book. Seto Kaiba was supposed to be solely focused on his work and his brother, and when he wasn't spending time at Kaiba Corp. he should have been with Mokuba. Seto Kaiba was supposed to be concerned with time and money, and most of all, Seto Kaiba was supposed to proud and aloof and obsessed with succeeding.

Therefore, by the simple rule of deduction, Seto Kaiba was not supposed to be someone that you would find in a late-night casino practically throwing his hard earned money away, half pissed with half dressed women drooling over him.

But he was.

And that was Amelda was so goddamn confused. This was nothing like Seto Kaiba at all.

_So why the hell is he here?_

Amelda frowned as he watched Seto Kaiba ascend the steps to the lurid nocturnal lair of drunkards, prostitutes and all manners of other, lesser people hoping to make a fast buck and make all their troubles disappear with the roll of a dice or a flip of a card.

_It's not like you – you shouldn't be here. You're not a no hoper like those fools – not someone drifting from day to day – you're a somebody – you're Seto Kaiba dammit!_

Bright lights glared back at Amelda, scolding him for judging everything – the place, the people…Flashes of red warned Amelda of the troubles that lay locked away in such a world, a world filled with lust and greed.

He didn't understand, as far as he knew Seto Kaiba had neither.

No, Seto Kaiba already had everything he could ever want – his success and the love of his brother. If anyone should have been throwing away their life, it should have been Amelda, not him.

Amelda wondered if any of the bouncers knew who they were letting in. They didn't even bother to check him for I.D. Had they known, they would have been fools to let him leave again.

Amelda shrugged deeper into his trench coat, the white changing colour in the shifting light.

_Why?_

As he trudged up the cold steps he resolved not to leave until he found out.

* * *

Clouds of smoke stung at grey eyes as Amelda was overcome by the overpowering smell of smoke, sex and alcohol.

"Hey hun," slurred a female voice from his left. Amelda tried to ignore it, but the woman moved in front of him so that he couldn't move past her.

Amelda glared at her, taking in her overly made up face and barely there clothing. He shivered when he realised how much she reminded him of Mai.

"Get the hell away from me," he spat out in disgust, pushing his way past her while making as little actual physical contact with her as possible as she screeched at him.

_Damn harpy…_

He wasn't there for _her_.

_Where are you Kaiba?_

Well, he wasn't hard to spot. He was six foot one after all, and he could practically feel the drop in temperature as he got closer. The coldness of the other man he expected. What he hadn't expected, however, was how different Kaiba looked.

Dressed head to foot in black – black shirt, black pants, and of course, a black trench, even Amelda had to admit that Seto Kaiba looked especially good. The smooth silken fabric glided over his lithe form, clinging to his toned body. If he was being honest with himself, he had to say that he put Raphael to shame when it came to the whole black leather ensemble. In fact he half expected him to don a dog collar with metal studs, but then he remembered that it was Wheeler who was the dog. Which was strange considering it was the Pharaoh who liked to wear collars…

Amelda shook his head.

That wasn't what he was there for, although Amelda had a lot of trouble concentrating on what he had planned to do while Kaiba cut his way through the swathes of punters that had gathered to play.

Amelda craned his neck to see where Kaiba was planning on going. His eyes fell on a card table. He smiled inwardly.

_Figures_.

As he drew nearer to the table he saw that a single deck had been stacked in the middle of the table, the Dealer idly shuffling another deck as he waited for a crowd to gather.

"What's the game?" he asked, wondering whether or not to challenge the strange man he believed to be Kaiba.

"It's about time you finally showed your face," sneered a voice behind him. How had Kaiba gotten there without him noticing? "You've been following me around so long I was about to call the Police and inform them that I had a stalker."

Amelda's eyes widened. "You – you knew?" he stuttered incredulously, trying not to think about how close Kaiba actually was. So close, he could feel the heat from his body; smell the alcohol on his oh-so-warm breath…

So much for Kaiba being cold-blooded.

"But then I realised that letting the Police deal with you wouldn't be half as fun for me," he whispered, his tongue reaching out to lick the lobe of Amelda's ear in a way that sent shivers down his spine and made his mouth dry.

Amelda swallowed.

_What the Hell is going on here?_

He had absolutely no idea what was happening – why was Kaiba acting like this? It was almost like – like a come on!

"Kaiba, I –" he began, but was cut off when the woman that he had rejected before teetered into view.

"Hey, baby," she giggled.

"I told you to stay the fuck away from me!" Amelda threw at her.

But she didn't seem to hear him; instead, she walked closer to him, effectively trapping him between Kaiba and herself. She was dressed in red – a red dress that barely skimmed her rear, revealing a scarlet garter that poked out from underneath her thigh high PVC boots. Even her lips were painted a bright vermillion – a sure sign that she was trouble.

"Who's your friend?" she asked, batting her black eyelashes at him.

Suddenly, he felt Kaiba's heat vanish.

_Where did he go?_

Then, almost as quickly as he had first appeared and then disappeared, Kaiba was in front of him, his body tense and his voice hard.

"Listen Melanie, I've told you – I don't want you anymore. I never have. I've paid you what you're due; now leave me the fuck alone." His voice was quiet, but Amelda knew it was a warning.

More than a warning – a _threat_.

"Come on, babe. What is it you want?" her hands found their way to his shoulders, closing the gap between them.

"What I want is something you'll never be able to give me," Kaiba replied coldly.

She laughed haughtily as she leaned in closer. "Everything has its price," she murmured, her lips hovering over Kaiba's.

Amelda didn't know why, but for some strange and inextricable reason he had never felt angrier, although whether it was about Kaiba or the whore in front of him, he couldn't guess. All he knew was that everything about Kaiba was starting to severely piss him off again.

"You can't put a price on life," Kaiba answered before pushing her away.

Amelda's anger quickly became confusion as his mind tried to work out what he had just said. He couldn't help but stare at him in wonder.

_What had he meant? What could Seto Kaiba possibly be talking about?_

"And even if I could, I'd never buy yours," he finished before turning abruptly and grabbing Amelda by the wrist. "Let's move – I know somewhere quieter."

Before the shocked redhead could even reply he found himself being pulled by the deceptively strong CEO through the packed Casino.

"Uh, Kaiba?"

"What?" the brunet snapped.

"Isn't the exit that way?" he asked, pointing in the opposite direction to which they were moving with his free hand.

"Whoever said we were leaving?"

"What?" Amelda felt that he was losing his mind. Nothing he had ever thought about Kaiba seemed to be real – he was hard enough to understand before, but now. "Well then where are we going?"

Kaiba smirked and Amelda shuddered when he saw how sadistic it made him look. "You'll see."

Amelda suppressed a shiver as Kaiba bolted the heavy metal door shut.

Great, now he had no way of escaping the crazy Kaiba.

Not to mention the fact that wherever they were, it was absolutely freezing.

At least he could no longer hear the shouts of the drunken gamblers or their shrieking partners who would only stay as long as there were winning cards on the table and money in their pockets.

He stood stiffly, watching Kaiba move with an ease that hid his intoxicated state. Kaiba knelt down in front of a wooden crate and removed two bottles before straightening and passing one to Amelda.

Amelda held the frosty glass in his hands and eyed it with suspicion. The bottle itself was clear, as was the liquid itself – one could easily have mistaken it for water, but Amelda knew that the white spirit inside was much more dangerous.

The sound of breaking glass caused Amelda to raise his eyes, but it was only Kaiba. He had brought the neck of the bottle down over the edge of the crate, smashing the thin barrel of glass and subsequently removing the metal top at the same time.

The fact that he was sticking potentially lethal broken glass into his mouth didn't seem to bother him one bit. Kaiba tipped his head back as he swallowed the fluid as though it _was_ water and not something that burnt the mouth and tongue and throat.

"How long have you been drinking like this?" Amelda asked.

Kaiba stopped and placed his almost empty bottle on top of the crate, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked at Amelda levelly and then shrugged.

"It's not healthy you know," Amelda continued, unsure of how far to go with what he was trying to say.

"Oh, and trying to get revenge on a guy who has nothing to do with you is?"

"That's different!" retorted Amelda.

"Really? Tell me something Amelda, why are you following me? And don't say you aren't because it is obvious to me that you are."

"I – I –" Amelda stammered uncertainly. Since when had Kaiba had this effect on him before?

"Talk about bad habits!" snorted Kaiba.

"Watch your mouth Kaiba!" Amelda shouted, tightening his grip on the bottle. "You don't know what I've been through!"

"What you've been through? Of course I fucking well know what you've been through!" Kaiba took a step towards him. "In case you haven't noticed, you like to tell me exactly what you've been through every time you're within my field of vision! Yeah, you've been through shit – _been_ through – you hear that? It's all in the past, why don't you get a hold of yourself and move on?"

"How dare you?" demanded Amelda, before he launched himself at Kaiba.

The two of them landed with a heavy thud on the floor, black and white merging into grey as smoke and ice met.

"You bastard!" screamed Amelda as he tried – and failed – to punch the elder Kaiba. "How dare you!"

Blinded by a flurry of emotions – hate, regret, guilt and self-loathing, Amelda tried his hardest to hurt Kaiba even a fraction of the way that he had hurt him.

"I hate you! I hate you!" he shouted, so angry that he didn't even notice Kaiba's hands gripping his wrists until he realised that he couldn't move them.

With barely any effort at all, Kaiba flipped the two of them over so that Amelda lay pinned beneath him, his hands held either side of his head as he continued to struggle against him, his arms straining against his hold and legs flailing.

"I fucking hate you!" he screamed as hot tears began to roll down his face.

Kaiba held him as still as he could, watching as the tears splashed onto the cold stone floor. He had never seen anything quite so beautiful and wanted to keep the moment forever. It was like looking into a mirror and seeing himself the way he should have been – and yet he wasn't. his eyes weren't filled with emotion and his heart was numb, rather than overflowing with pain.

_I should feel the way you do…but I – I can't. I'm losing; I don't know how much longer I can keep fighting this before I break._

Amelda seemed to have tired – he was fighting less and his breathing seemed strained – it was a battle even to whisper the words. "I – I hate you…"

As his lips parted to allow his lungs air, Kaiba lunged forward and seized them in a totally unexpected kiss. He felt Amelda's body tense and his resistance mount. He tried to close him mouth, but Kaiba forced his way in, using his tongue to coax open his soft lips and steal its way in.

The kiss was rough and wild – fuelled by lust and powered by a heady mix of alcohol and hormones, Seto Kaiba mercilessly attacked Amelda, drawing the other into a fierce battle of teeth and lips and tongue.

Amelda was held in a state between shock and panic. One part of him was still seething from Kaiba had said and wanted to castrate him using nothing more than the Oricalchos stone that he once wore around his neck.

The other part, however…Well, that part wanted nothing more than to drown in Seto Kaiba – to lose himself in that deep and unfathomable abyss. He hadn't realised how much he had come to rely on Kaiba – Kaiba was the reason for his existence. Without Kaiba and his own claims of revenge, he would be nothing.

He needed Kaiba in a way that was too complicated to imagine, and yet as he lay trapped beneath him, losing yet another duel against the former Champion, he couldn't help but think how simple everything was.

He needed Kaiba.

"But I hate you," he breathed when Kaiba finally pulled away, his eyes dark with something Amelda couldn't determine.

"Then why did you kiss me back?" he smirked, his hands still holding Amelda in place.

"I – I didn't want to lose to you again," Amelda spoke before realising that he had and cringed.

Why? Why did he have to play these stupid games? Why couldn't he have just told Kaiba that it was because he needed him. Not only that, but he wanted him as well.

_Maybe it's because I'm worried he doesn't want me._

And it was a fair point. Seto Kaiba sure as Hell had never wanted nor needed anyone before him. But then why was he consorting with prostitutes. Wait – was that all he was to Kaiba? Just another body?

_At least it's somebody_, he reasoned. After the death of his mother and Miiroku he had been left with nothing and no-one. It was a void that had been left empty and unfulfilled. _Until now_.

Seto Kaiba stared at him curiously for a moment, as if he was considering his answer. "Some things are worth losing," he announced with a dark grin.

"Kaiba – I –" Amelda lost his voice since it was swallowed by another ferocious kiss.

The pressure on his left wrist seemed to lessen as Kaiba's right hand found the opening to his trench coat, pulling it from the left side of his body. Kaiba shifted slightly, so that he was sat on Amelda's stomach, placing his right hand on Amelda's chest for leverage as his left hand mimicked its twin.

Gently, he inched his way back until their erections met, making him break the kiss as Amelda let out a gasp.

He was losing again – losing to his worst enemy, but Amelda wouldn't lose without a fight. He had always pushed Kaiba to his limits and beyond. Tonight would be no different.

Slowly, he trailed his newly free hands along Kaiba's long thighs to his groin. With feather-light touches he traced his finger along the prominent bulge in his pants before tugging on the loose shirt tails.

Kaiba smirked as he felt Amelda pull on him and leaned forwards to take another kiss.

Amelda met his lips with his own burning mouth, ready for yet another searing clash, but was shocked when Kaiba only ghosted his mouth on top of his. Feeling unsatisfied, he followed him when he pulled away again, desperate for more of Kaiba to drown in.

Knowing he was preoccupied with his little tease, Kaiba slid his hands under Amelda's shirt, brushing over the smooth plains of pale skin before discarding the garment.

"You're beautiful," he breathed, taking in the sight before him.

The room they were in was dark – since it was nothing more than a mere storage room – a secret to all but a few voyeuristic individuals and the Manager, perfect for what he wanted to do. The only light came from the overhead tube that cast a fluorescent glow over the two and buzzed as the sounds of strained breathing grew louder.

Amelda lay sprawled beneath him, the strange glow giving the redhead an ethereal look, his grey eyes at time lost – others, clouded in unhidden lust.

He had been waiting for this moment for so long – ever since he had first seen him, in fact. There was something about him – Amelda's passion and resolve had buried their way into his heart long before he realised that he felt anything other than scorn for the elder man.

Kaiba fisted his hands in Amelda's vibrant locks; tangling them together he pulled back his head so that his face met his. Blue and grey locked, each searching in the other for something – something they both wanted and needed more than anything they ever had before.

Pulling back even more, Kaiba smiled evilly as he descended on Amelda's neck with gentle kisses that soon turned into teasing nips and playful sucking. Amelda responded with low moans, leaning his head back, revealing yet more of his tantalising neck to the ravenous Kaiba.

His hands shook as nimble fingers popped open the buttons on Kaiba's shirt, starting at the hem. As more of his flesh became exposed, Amelda pulled him down, pressing his burning lips to the heated skin from naval to neck.

Kaiba writhed on top of him, his hands losing their almost painful grip on his hair. Instead, they went to the base of his neck, pulling Amelda's face to his for another blazing kiss.

"Kai-Kaiba!" Amelda managed to choke out as pulled away from the kiss while he felt slender fingers sliding their way down his stomach into the waistband of his pants.

With one fluid motion, Kaiba ripped the pants from his body, along with the boxers. Amelda could only gasp as the cold chill from the air hit what had previously been unreachable.

He felt as though he were on fire – Kaiba was burning into him with each kiss, each touch.

Amelda's own hands instinctively went to Kaiba's, to stop him from doing anything else – anything more. This was too much for him – _Kaiba's hands, his fingers_ – he wasn't sure – _touching me_ – he wasn't – _teasing and taunting_ – he –

Amelda wasn't sure what he wanted.

_I want Kaiba._

Amelda stared up at Kaiba, his grey eyes wide and searching. Kaiba smiled down at him and lowered his head so that his lips grazed Amelda's ear.

"You aren't the only one with something to lose," he admitted.

Blue eyes that were usually so cold and hard seemed unnaturally soft – as though this was the real Kaiba – the Kaiba he would have been had it not been for his bastard of a step-father. That man had ruined more lives than he could ever know – Seto, Mokuba –

_And mine_.

He was almost as bad as Dartz, but then again, Dartz had been going for near ten thousand years.

Amelda smiled despite himself, his situation and his predicament. Throughout all his duels with Seto Kaiba, he had never once imagined this to be the man underneath the cool façade of indifference that he wore.

Then again, he also never expected for _him_self to be the man underneath Kaiba and his mask of cold confidence.

That was all just a game to him. This – this was different.

This was life.

"Losing isn't so bad," he said quietly.

A strange feeling seemed to grow in his chest as relief made itself clear in Kaiba's face.

"I guess you'll have to show me what it feels like," he smirked as he brought Amelda's hands to his own groin. "But I have to warn you," he began, guiding Amelda's fingers to his fly and helping him to pull down the metal zip. "I'm a very, _very_ bad loser."

Suddenly, there was a loud banging on the metal door.

"What the fuck?" demanded a voice from the outside. It was female and raspy. It was Melanie. "Gus? Gus is that you in there? Open up – it's me – I gotta a client out here. Come on, Gus – this one's loaded!"

"Hey, is everything okay, baby?" came another voice, this time male. It was slick, well rehearsed, each word practised to perfection.

_Was that Duke Devlin?_

Amelda looked at Kaiba with an expression that was clearly asking what the Hell were they gonna do.

"Ignore them," Kaiba said, leaning down to steal a quick kiss. "They don't have anything left to lose anyway."

* * *

The sound of someone shouting woke Amelda from his dreamless sleep. He had to admit that it had been the best night of sleep he had had ever since the war on his island had started and the nightmares began.

He just couldn't believe that he had Seto Kaiba to thank for it.

Speaking of Kaiba –

Amelda's heart constricted painfully in his chest.

_Where is he?_

Surely Kaiba hadn't abandoned him – not after last night.

_Not after we –_

"I don't care what you have to tell him!"

Amelda rolled onto his side, his eyes landing on he very Seto Kaiba he had been thinking about. He was half dressed in his pants, although the fly was still hanging open, the rumpled shirt and trench coat next to him, cell phone plastered to his ear.

Amelda sat up, watching the man who he had followed for so long, finally seeing what it was truly like to be Seto Kaiba.

Yes he was rich and he was famous, but in all honesty, Seto Kaiba didn't care.

"Then the deal falls through, we don't need their Company anyway. Listen, I'm in no mood to be talking business, arrange a meeting with their advisor in a couple of hours – so what if they're in New York? If they want Kaiba Corp's. backing then they're gonna have to do thing s by my rules."

Kaiba hung up his cell phone and cast it aside, running a hand through his messy bangs with a sigh.

"Why did you do that?" Amelda questioned.

Kaiba looked at him curiously, as though he was trying to figure out what he had really wanted to ask. He knew that Amelda didn't care about his business at all – that meant that he had to have been talking about what had happened last night.

"I made a choice," he answered in a non-committed manner. Two could play Amelda's game. "I took a chance."

"But you've never left anything to chance before," retorted the biker.

_Why now? _

Why _him_?

"All choices are gambles," Kaiba answered softly, his eyes falling to the floor. "It's all part of the game."

Amelda nodded at his words and walked over to where Kaiba was sat on the wooden crate and knelt down in front of him, his hands quietly finding their way back into his pants as he kissed him tenderly, their lips already bruised and burning again.

Kaiba was right – choices and chances – they were all part of the game.

It was a part of life.

* * *

Well, there you go. I know I left a lot of stuff unexplained, but there's a very good reason for that. 


End file.
